


drowning | han jisung

by adore_jisung



Series: and beyond | stray kids [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Burnout - Freeform, Depression, Drowning, I love them all, Mental Illness, Mental Instability, Sad, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Stressed Bang Chan, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Writer's Block, being alive is suffering, comeback season, i wrote this while having a writer's block, jisung is exhausted, lack of energy, overworked han jisung, songwriter han
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-04-03 16:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adore_jisung/pseuds/adore_jisung
Summary: in which jisung runs out of words
Relationships: Bang Chan/Han Jisung, Han Jisung | Han & Everyone, Han Jisung | Han/Everyone, Stray Kids Ensemble/Everyone
Series: and beyond | stray kids [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545982
Comments: 6
Kudos: 154





	drowning | han jisung

**Author's Note:**

> this story isn't supposed to romanticize or euphemize mental illness/suicide in any way and i tried to cover the topic respectfully. i hope stray kids rest enough i love them so much

with burning eyes he was staring at his phone's excruciatingly bright screen its empty white light seemed to sadistically laugh at its owner. his thumbs where insecurely hovering above the keyboard, representing his mind's plain blankness through their small, indecesive dances, while his thoughts were mercilessly reigned by an indefinable mixture of enforced ambition and oppressed anxiety that was constantly pointing out the clock's unmistakable ticking. 

every further minute seemed to consume his energy more, seemed to chew on his creativity until it lost all of its individual taste, seemed to eliminate every single word he just wanted to add to his text until his mind that used to overflow with new ideas and inspirations was completely empty. biting on his already bloody underlip he tried to win them back, begged to retrieve his skills that used to afford him creating the most beautiful and deep words only his very own mellifluous voice was able to express in an appropriate way. the special words allowing him access to several hearts that were desperately thirsting for only a small but satisfying drop of warming love.

and jisung was indeed one of the few creators who could master the art of conveying these dried out hearts' long lost love - unwittingly though. without doubt, he was aware of the great number of fans discovering themselves in the reflection of the imaginary artwork his voice painted in front of their inner eye, the lonely fans identifying themselves with his words declaring this world's harsh reality in a relatable but poetic way.he knew how people loved him for his work and his engagement, but little did he know about the real power he was holding in his hands. 

he was a life saver. 

in fact, his texts were powerful enough to encourage the tired, to heal the broken, to caress all these unloved souls that were lucky enough to get blessed with his lyrics. his words were the only last thing holding back several desperate souls who just wanted nothing but to give up and finally end their own suffering. with every syllable he pronounced, with every sentence he built, he spread hope and reduced fear. 

however, every spark of hope he spread drained his own hope bit by bit until it was nearly completely gone. and he on the other hand did not have anyone comforting him through their words, he didn't have anyone making him gain back the positivity, the blessings, the strength he donated to his listeners. after all, he seemed to have forgotten that his energy was limited as well. and that was also the reason for the access to these powerful words staying unreachable to him - the reserves of hope, love, optimism, they all were utterly exhausted by the live-giving messages he used to loyally provide. 

of course, he could just for once write a mainstream, semi-sad love song, a concatenation of ordinary phrases praising his ideal type's looks, comparing them to flowers, to the sun, to his favorite place, he could attempt to describe the painful breakup of the relationship he had never had, he could just hypocritically smash typical, meaningless phrases together almost every artist chose to recourse to at some lazy point. it would be the easiest and most logical thing to do in his situation resembling a writer's block. 

but he didn't want that. 

in fact, he attached great importance to quality content. never would he accept anything else than the unique pattern composed of etangled profound words their meaning was well locked in a chest of foggy art which the listener had to succeed in opening with a key called intrinsic interpretation before being able to understand it. he loved challenging himself to a level other artists would've never dreamed of being able to reach, he pushed his own and everyone else's expectations higher with every further poetical song he released, he literally chased his lyrics' complexity up and upper, climbed above the clouds until the air became dangerously thin and his exhausted self slowly realized the situation he got himself into. 

because the higher he dared to climb, the faster he would fall and the more brutally he would hit the hard floor as the field of ideas that seemed to be endlessly broad in the beginning would shrink to the size of a hardly visible grain, shattering to dust as soon as he'd touch it. 

and now that he felt the air becoming thinner day by day, anxiety was starting to build up in his head. he feared the imminent plunge he would experience and, worse than that, the incredibly painful but unfortunately unavoidable confrontation with the hard, cold floor immediately afterwards. furthermore, he felt like he was constantly badged by the sheer ignorance of what would happen afterwards. 

would there be anyone sticking out their hand and helping him to get back on his feet or would he remain alone, shattered and forgotten, rotting on the dirty floor while others would trample and spit on him for failing, for disappointing them? 

wouldn't they only laugh at his ridiculous past self, filled with ambition and dreams? 

wouldn't he drag his members down next to him, tainting them with his dirty, failing hands while they could fly with their wings of success and talent instead? 

wouldn't he confirm his family's doubts in him as they had tried to stop him from wasting time, money and energy by wanting to become a successful singer, as they told him to drop his dreams and become a financially stable and responsible young man instead? 

it was needless to say that once again the negative, noisy demons in his head prevailed and succeeded in suffocating the faint voice trying to keep together the fragile, withered last particles of hope that were left in his mind. and the more he tried to force the words to be written down, the more he realized his pathetic being, the more the blossoms of hope were wilting until the wind broke them and carried the shattered sharps into the dark sea of evanescence. 

the sudden notification making his phone buzz and interrupting his thoughts didn't brighten up his mood either - deadline at midnight, meaning he still had short of one hour to finish the song. groaning he stood up, trying his best to ignore his already hurting back, and made his way to the cupboard filled with scattered, unorganized paperworks hoping to find any old but usable drafts from earlier in there, however, his hopes were immediately killed as he re-read the cringworthy texts his fourteen year old self had produced years ago and which didn't seem to be any more intellectual than a fourth grader's essay. 

"jisung? did you finish up yet, changbin and i just wanted to submit everything now", a familiar voice suddenly boomed out through the room, startling him. he fastly turned around only to face his leader standing in the door frame, pressing a folder full of papers on his broad chest. "n-no, i... it isn't finished yet, like... just... here", the addressed nervously stammered, feeling his heavy heart sink while shakingly reaching out for the paper and awkwardly handing them over only to witness chan's formerly friendly smile fall the moment his eyes fell on the paper's blankness. 

after only a few seconds of deathly awkward silence the latter lifted his eyes, disbelief and annoyance drowning them. "jisung, you must be kidding me right now and it definitely is not funy", the elder spoke slowly, unusual coldness accompanying his usually friendly and warm voice as well as the unfamiliar but unmistakably strict tone, which made his counterpart flinch and uncomfortably shift around while trying to avoid the other's stern glare. his panicked facial expression seemed to be enough of a clear answer though, causing the normally calm and insightful chan to explode and rant at the contrite younger boy who didn't even dare to talk back, to defend himself a single time. 

because he knew his leader was completely right with every word he was yelling now. not only had he wasted a whole week in which he could've easily asked his members for help, no, he also had had the least part of work while his two companions both had written twice as much as him. and he knew how stressed and tired his members had been lately as well, especially chan, who always put his own health at the bottom end, listening to his members' problems before caring about his own ones. jisung had been very well conscious about the consequences his inconsiderate behaviour would lead to, however, had let his darned pride win that had prevented him from speaking up, from reaching out for help and now it would be his own fault only if chan, responsible for the whole group, got in trouble with their boss. 

and with every further minute of his friend yelling at him, panicked frustration started taking over his body until he didn't even perceive his friend's words anymore, merely noticed his angry mouth moving fastly and his veins popping up, while his own body felt numb and motionless. jisung felt hot tears welling up in his eyes, a lump building up in his throat making it difficult to breath as his eyes hectically searched for the door and he roughly pushed the older away, escaping from the narrow room, running past his confused members who were witnessing the whole scene. 

he dashed on the empty street, kept sprinting without any destination, just far, far away from that place. not even hearing the faint voices behind calling for his name made him stop running, he had to escape right now, nothing else mattered. 

the tears were mercilessly making their way down his cheeks now, blurrying his vision, however, he didn't wipe them away but kept running and running until his burning lungs were stinging and his weakened legs gave out under his weight making him stumble and eventually tumbling. tardily he tried to pull himself together and tightly clutched his shaking hands around the firm handrail of the familiar bridge he found himself standing on now. 

gasping for air he tilted his heavily throbbing head back and stared into the dark night sky where the small, bright stars were empathetically looking down on him. 

he was exhausted. 

jisung was so incredibly exhausted and no one seemed to ever understand him, not even his own members who have been walking with him through thick and thin, who knew him better than he believed to know himself. and even they seemed to have closed their eyes in front of the obvious misery he had been stuck in for the past time, they seemed to be tired of having to comfort him over and over again despite their own problems. 

he was lonely. 

jisung felt so incomparably lonely, as if he was the only one imperfect human among his successful peers, he felt unloved and at the same time so stupidly selfish for longing for attention. all he ever did was requiring, needing, consuming. he never was the one his members came to when they needed advice or a helping hand because they knew very well that jisung was already overwhelmed with himself. 

he was useless, nothing but a burden. 

he knew it. he knew what his members really thought when they were faking their smiles at him, when they were lying that it was okay and that they couldn't sleep anyway, when he once again woke them up in the middle of the night because he couldn't mute the noisy thoughts torturing his mind. he knew how they internally rolled their eyes when he once again melted into their embraces, crying like a baby about small conveniences, he knew how they talked about him when they thought he wasn't listening, misinterpreted the sound of their concerned voices filled with love and empathy for the poor boy with annoyed and tired complaints. 

in the end, the same demons killing his self-esteem little by little also manipulated his perceptions making everyone seem to be against him. it wasn't fair, not at all, but it was a simple result of the pressure he had started to torture his own psyche with while challenging himself to endless prostration. 

yes, he was convinced that he was nothing but a worthless burden to everyone who was cursed to be confronted with his nerve-wracking self every single day. 

jisung's grip on the rail tightened as he was staring into the black water several meters beneath him while counting eight stars being reflected in the faint waves, eight beautifully bright stars contrasting with the environment's pure blackness. perhaps they had been nine once as well, he thought, but one hadn't been able to keep the pace with their perfection, one was more pale and faint than them until the surrounding darkness had completely swallowed it and its existence seemed to be nothing but an illusional dream in the past, fastly forgotten and disappeared. 

but what if that was the best for everyone? they now could concentrate on their own light, they now could focus on their own wellbeing without having to constantly take their weaker friend into account. it certainly wasn't a great pity about his loss, was it? 

jisung thoughtfully took out his phone, fastly typing something, before placing it on the rail somewhere next to his bony hands.slowly but determinedly he swung both of his legs over the thin rail separating him from the black depths friendly whispering his name. 

he had been thinking about this so often lately, had always brushed it away and had let it flow into new, inspirational lyrics instead, but now it felt like the only right thing to do.his heart was pounding hard as he lifted his eyes to survey the beautiful sight above him, before he let his lungs fill with the cold, fresh air one last time. 

and then he let himself fall into the dark waves immediately covering him and making him finally feel the love and calmness he has been longing for since forever. 

and eight stars were left heartbroken and shattered that night, incredulously trying to process the last goodbye their beloved friend had left some moments ago. 

and many tired strange souls had lost their firm harbor that night and regretted every second of self-centred obliviousness in the past while realizing the true meaning hidden within his last words, before following him into the world of relieving freedom he had let himself fall into. 

_back then, i thought we would all last forever_

_once we take away the young world, _

_we scatter into narrow, sloped roads _

_our flashy and innocent dreams, _

_those dreams that overflowedin your hands, _

_the times you prayed for, _

_i hope they come true _

_ back then, i believed we'd achieve it together_

_\- akmu, will last forever _


End file.
